The Garden of Eden
by SusieScribbles
Summary: Detached from normalcy, Sergeant Doyle falls in love with Scarlet from afar. After the second outbreak occurs in District 1, Doyle and Scarlet are forced to co-exist. A twist on what happens in the movie.
1. Garden of Eden

The shadow of night held all of Sergeant Doyle's troop on patrol overlooking the city. The men would keep themselves entertained, having made games of "I Spy" and narrating muted conversations in the apartments a nightly occurrence. Naturally, Doyle would be one of the first to initiate such games and was notorious for bringing constant humor to the grim situation. After being in Afghanistan and failing to protect the White House from the virus back in the states, the situation here was far more relaxed. Doyle was more at peace now than he had been in the past several years of his life, for war had stretched far beyond his time with the rage virus.

Those memories were suppressed for Doyle, as they were for many soldiers. The experienced sniper had killed many of the living, as well as the infected. Each face stuck with him and haunted his dreams when he would find sleep during the day. For now, Doyle lead the group of spying snipers in the game of "I Spy". Doyle brought the scope up to his favorite window, one that he hadn't shared with the other men before. There was something about her that captured his interest, in a way that no other woman had done before. She was beautiful, yes, but there was more about her than that. She held an air of innocence and even from his distance, he was entranced by her eyes. He could only imagine the impact they would have on him if she were actually to look directly at him.

Doyle's voice dropped an octave, after clearing his throat. She was sitting there at her desk near the window, with that constant troubled look on her face. It was hopeless to Doyle that he would ever meet her, but sometimes he'd pretend that he did know her just for his own sanity. "I spy dark hair, beautiful big eyes and in desperate need of some Doyle lovin'."

The soldier's laughed along with Doyle at the last part, as one of the other snipers chimed in to answer. "I got it. The gay guy on the fourth floor, West Wing, ten windows in." The laughing grew louder among the men as all scopes except for Doyle's went there.

Doyle kept his eye on the woman. "Not my type, Leon."

"Honestly, Doyle. All of the women here are starting to look good to me. It's been awhile!" Another soldier answered as the men started to agree with him and chime in about their favorite women in the District.

"I got her!" Hughes came through from across the building. "Twenty-fifth floor. She's a Major in the medical unit. Don't know her name, but she is smokin' hot. Nine windows from the East side."

Doyle felt a sense of relief at this news. He had seen her in the Army pants, but couldn't even begin to place what unit she was a part of. After Hughes had won the game, they shifted into another, but Doyle found his focus always going back to the Major's window. Someday maybe, he would know her. It was high hoping, which was dangerous for any soldier these days.

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_I know this one is a bit short, but I'm just starting this off. Next chapters will be longer if I get enough reviews and followers. Thanks for reading!_


	2. Adam and Eve

_End shift. Eat. Workout for four hours straight. Shower. Eat again. Sleep. Night falls. New Shift._

It had been too long since Doyle had let a woman into his life. In fact, it had been a collection of years that had gone uncounted. The Sergeant from the Delta rooftop unit was notorious for being a commodity among the ladies, with his quick wit and his charming nature. However, Doyle never sought out anything other than flirtatious encounters. Some would call and call and call, but Doyle never returned any phone calls. He feared the nearness of another person, someone who would share in his horrific life and deal with his post traumatic stress on a daily basis. The difference between Doyle and most was that, he knew he was messed up. He also knew that dating someone while not being a resolved individual would only lead to heartbreak for both parties involved. If you would ask him why he was still a single man who was never married, he would tell you it was because he was a devoted soldier. Someone who moved around too much to even begin to settle down, but deep down he knew the truth. He was afraid. He had been deserted before, but after several years Doyle realized it was for the best.

Now he felt more alone than ever, having lost his entire family to the infection and any connections to his life before being a soldier. There was nothing for him to go back to, like many of the militia that resided in District One. This roof held a routine for him, something stable in an unstable world. His scope was his window, that could give him temporary access to those still hopeful for a moments happiness. Surviving families still argued, yet kissed each other goodnight. Married couples and new couples shared their beds and bodies at night and then there was one window that Doyle noticed often; one that he had a hard time giving privacy to.

Doyle had seen many beautiful women before, an appreciative glance and maybe a few drinks would sate his need to be around a vision of such a woman, but this one was different. He wasn't one who believed in aura's or energies in a person, but if he could compare it to that, he would. She seemed innocent, yet her eyes held the horrors of the world around her. She held a passion for her work, one in which he recognized in himself but deciphered it for a need for something more. Always looking worried, always looking for something more. It was what he saw when he looked at her and for some reason unknown to him, he wanted to be a part of her life. He wanted to know every thought on her perplexed face, every concern that came to her mind and most of all, he wanted to comfort her in those things.

His scope focused in on her and he exhaled a longing breath. The sight of her would get to him every single time. If they were under different circumstances, maybe he would introduce himself to her. Maybe he would ask her out on a date...but such times no longer existed.

Now they were just two totally different soldiers, obeying commands and trying to bring the world back to order. It wasn't until long after she had rushed out and disappeared on some obviously urgent military business, that Doyle could go back to his boring watch job and bullshit with the other guys.

He felt ridiculous with his uncalled for infatuation. It wasn't natural for a soldier of his station to be so distracted, which made this even more frustrating. Finding himself once again so wrapped up in his thoughts of the Major in the window, Doyle took a moment too long to realize someone was addressing him over the monitor in his ear.

He responded. "Repeat."

He heard an annoyed sigh and smirked, knowing damn well who it was. "Doyle, you perving again?"

"Every day of my life, Flynn. Got your wife up on my scope right now. Has she been working out?"

The men laughed, as they always did, when Doyle joked about Flynn's beloved wife. She as in a safe house back in the United States. Doyle didn't understand why Flynn didn't just leave his post, go AWOL and enjoy what time all of them could possibly have left with the woman he so obviously loved. In the end, Doyle chalked it up to Flynn wanting to build a better future for her, but Doyle felt that the future was ultimately pointless. Of course, he would never tell Flynn that, since hope was such a dangerous thing to do.

Flynn chimed in as the laughter and jokes went on for too long at his expense. "All right soldiers, keep the line clear. That's enough."

A few hours passed in silence, but the rooftop unit and the rest of the infantry were completely unaware of the hell starting to break loose in the medical unit.

A break on the line of his commanding officer brought Doyle's scope back to the streets. "Code red! All soldier's to their posts. Kill anyone suspected of being infected!"

"Flynn, am I losing my shit or did he just initiate a Code Red?!" Doyle watched in horror as civilians were torn from their homes and brought to the medical unit to be held under containment. The streets were in panic as Doyle's fellow soldiers on ground level grouped civilians together and moved them into the building against their will.

"You ain't losing your shit!" Flynn responded hurriedly, no doubt attempting to set up the chopper and do his arial scans. As the choppers flew overhead, Doyle couldn't help but cringe at the ball of stress now forming in his abdomen. He had a bad feeling about all of this and just hoped that they would get through this and the District wouldn't be lost after all of their efforts to rebuild society.

The District was now still and quiet to the rooftop unit and Doyle frantically searched the streets with his gun to shoot anything that was suspicious. After a painful half hour of eerie stillness, the streets suddenly broke out into chaos as a large group of both infected and civilians broke free from the medical unit.

"Initiate phase three!" His commanding officer ordered. "Kill everything that moves, infected or not! We have lost control!"

Doyle took a sharp breath in as he shot more of the infected, disbelieving the order commanded down to him. It took several moments for it to sink in, before Doyle started cursing to himself. With impeccable aim Doyle lay several of the infected to the ground with his bullets, till a young boy came into his scope. As the boy became surrounded by the infected, Doyle started to shoot them down around the frightened child. It was then that he saw the Major of his affections come to the boy's rescue, who was now lined up in Doyle's scope as his next target. Doyle lifted his gun away from his eye, refusing to shoot and watched as the pair ran towards a group of buildings and out of sight.

His internal battle over being a dutiful soldier or a person of morals now had come to an abrupt halt. He was not a murderer at heart. In his outstanding military career, Doyle now chose to forsake it and come to the aid of the survivors on the ground level.

Quickly, he slid down the ladder of the building, shooting at infected that now flooded the alley. Making his way to the building, he found the back way in and secured the opened door behind him. Keeping his scope to form, Doyle used it as his eyes to see in the dark. Skillfully, he checked the perimeter and saw nothing, till he turned the corner and came upon the site of the Major sitting with the two infamous new arrivals of District One. The two children and the Major herself tensed at the sight of the armed Sergeant.

As the Major rose, her dark beautiful eyes transfixed on his, Doyle loosened the grip on his weapon and put it to his side. "Who are you?" She asked in a soft, yet worried tone.

"Sergeant Doyle. Delta rooftop unit." He blinked.

"Why aren't you at your post?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

The Sergeant looked her up and down, wishing she had on her ACU jacket so he could read her name tag. He didn't understand why the medical unit got away with so much when it came to uniform protocol. In the infantry unit, you'd be in some deep shit without a full uniform on. Once again, his eyes locked onto hers. She was so much more beautiful face to face. He was almost starstruck under her gaze, but thankfully his training as a soldier did wonders for hiding his internal reaction to things. They were both reading each other's body language, as they've both been trained to do and there was so much there between them that was mixed and difficult to decipher. The only sign coming through clear as day for Doyle, was that she didn't trust him.

Finally, he retorted to her question. "Why aren't you?"

The tongue rolled in her mouth and Doyle knew he had struck a nerve. He couldn't control the slight smirk that came upon his previously tight lips. "I don't know about all of you-" He looked around to the brother and sister in the safe house, then back to the woman from the window. "But I'm getting the hell out of here."

The subtext was there for peace and that he meant no harm to them. The Major was apparently very aware that phase three was being initiated and followed them out of the building and into the quiet back alley from where Doyle had come from. Both soldiers were armed and ready for the worst as they started to make their way out of the chaotic District One.

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	3. From The Dust

The hushed ragged breaths of the survivors turned several corners through back alleys of District One, avoiding both the infected and the snipers on the roof. Major Levy watched their backs, Sergeant Doyle lead the way with the two children in between them. A bullet breezed past Doyle's head, hitting the brick wall merely an inch from his face. He moved back quickly behind the newfound corner, keeping his arm out to make sure the rest of the group stayed hidden.

"The son of a bitch missed." He said with humor, rather than fear, which seemed to trouble the Major. Her eyes narrowed on him and as he met her judgmental stare, a smirk rose from the corner of his charmed mouth. "Must be a rookie."

She rolled her eyes at him, clearly holding a pre-conceived notion about the infantry unit as he had for the ones in the medical unit. Two different sets of training, two totally different views on the world. She knew nothing of combat and of killing another, whereas he knew nothing of the comfort of a desk and the pressures of coming up with impossible answers. Around the corner, death waited them. It took that newfound perception and the trembling of the kids next to him that put him back into the mode of a soldier.

He kneeled down to pick up a broken shard of mirror that must have fallen off of a car that roamed these streets long before District One had been put into motion. Angling it slowly around the corner in an attempt to catch the sniper's reflection, two shots rang out. The first, missed completely. The second, knocked the glass out of his hand.

"He's nervous."

"What?!" The Major argued. "How do you know?"

He looked to her. "Two shots. It took two shots for him to hit his target. He missed my head too, in case you missed that one."

She blinked in response, her mouth parted in silent disbelief.

Oh, yeah. She was definitely in over her head out here.

Doyle kneeled down before the brother and sister. "I need you both to be my shadow. Can you do that?"

They nodded, fear in their eyes as their imaginations ran wild on what was to come. The well-experienced soldier rose up to talk to his new partner. "Can you run fast, Major?"

An annoyed scoff escaped her frustrated lips. "What do you need me to do, Sergeant?"

He breathed out before giving her quick orders. "Run in a zig-zag pattern, as fast as you can, down the street to the broken street light at the end. It will give me a clear shot and I can take him out in one shot." His lip curved up to that smirk again. "Not two."

"What if you miss?!" The blonde sister voiced with concern for the Major's life, her voice in tremors.

Doyle placed his gloved hand upon her shoulders, steadying her teary eyes onto his sturdy green orbs. "I won't."

With that, the Major took a deep breath before bolting around them and running full speed down the abandoned and darkened street. The shots rang out, but she kept her pace continuous.

Placing his rifle to mark, Doyle quickly lined up the enemy soldier in his scope. Centering it steadily, he carefully squeezed the trigger on his trusted weapon. His target fell from the roof, hitting the pavement below with traumatizing and bloody force. Doyle didn't want the kids to see that, or bear on them the horrors of war, but for their survival he knew the exposure would ultimately do them good.

Maybe, Doyle temporarily considered, that was up for debate. He didn't exactly have any experience in raising a child, nor remember what it was like to be one.

The Major found the end of the street, stopping against the brick wall and before the gate that separated the district from the rest of London. Doyle came to her side quickly, the young ones right behind him.

"You alright?" He asked quickly, looking her up and down for any surface injuries.

She huffed as her breath caught up with the racing of her heart. "Fine. Let's get out of here."

The sound of helicopters came to a deafening closeness, as they flew overhead and into the heart of the district. "We gotta go!" Doyle yelled as his own fear began to escalade. Any second those bombs were going to drop and he didn't want to be here when that happened. He dragged the kids towards the gates, but they didn't need much guidance in rushing in that direction. Helping them up, the two soldiers made sure the family was over the broken gate before climbing over themselves. When the first bomb hit, Doyle's boots hit the London soil and as they picked up the dirt behind him he screamed to the others, "Run!"

Dodging into the London tunnels, the four bolted at full speed down the cobble path before them not daring to look back. The fire started to appear at a distance behind them, moving at a rapid rate to start enveloping the tunnel. Doyle made sure he stayed in the rear of his new comrades, ready to pick up the boy if he were to fall behind. To Doyle's relief, the children held their own and as they made it out of the tunnel, Doyle knew the blast was far enough behind them that they wouldn't be burnt to a crisp. They had escaped death by seconds, but a thought like that was dangerous to any soldier's frame of mind.

His eyes darted to the Major in that moment, who had been running just a step ahead of him. She must have been thinking the same thing as well, since they held the same look and silently exchanged the dreading thoughts of whatever was to come. This would not be the last time they faced a close call, it was only a small taste of the inevitable. The odds were against them. They had little weapons, no food or water and no familiarity with London outside of the district. Basically, they were completely screwed.

Without any further instruction, they all continued to run. The kids were obviously so scared, they didn't even want to stop running. They would look back every now and again, to make sure everyone was still here. They ran till they were too tired to run anymore and awhile later, they slowed down at an abandoned carnival just over the hill far outside of the District.

The kids plopped onto the swings, both with a distant look in their eyes and their faces drained of color. As Doyle looked at them, he wondered what they had seen and who they had lost back there. Surely, they had seen more horrors than he had that evening. Whatever happened inside the medical center, was definitely the scene that was haunting their gazes.

More bombs dropped behind them in the far distance of District One. Doyle turned to look at the scene. It was completely submerged in flames. Buildings were crumbling from the extreme heat, yet the bombs didn't relent. He knew they couldn't linger here for long. Who knows if anything escaped out of there, just as they had? Who knows if the Army would send units out to destroy everything, including them?

"We can't stay here for long." The Major came up behind him, her dark eyes fixated and reflecting the horrors before them.

"I was just thinking that." He voiced.

Both stared into the distant flames for a few silent moments.

"We have to get the kids out of the city. They might be the key in ending all of this."

This caught Doyle's attentions and now they were fully onto her. "How so?"

"Their mother held immunity to the virus. She had been bit. She survived and remained mentally in tact for months."

Doyle's brow furrowed deeply at the extraordinary news. "How is that possible?"

She shrugged her petite shoulders. "I don't know. She was still a carrier of the virus, which is why all of this went to shit, but-"

She breathed out a troubled breath, feeling secretly responsible for all of this. "It's more resistance to the virus than I've ever seen." Looking over her shoulder at the kids, Doyle's gaze followed hers. "They could hold the same immunity. So, their lives are much more valuable than mine..."

The soldiers looked at each other, Doyle was hanging on her every word.

"...or yours."

Searching every inch of her face, Doyle slowly nodded as her words sunk in at the unspoken order to give up his life for them. He didn't respond verbally, but completely understood everything she had said. He already held all of their lives above his own, but now the mission to save them had become that much more imperative.

She had looked away from him, moving towards the broken carousel to rest before they continued their journey.

Doyle didn't know where to take them next, but forward was clearly the next step. For now, he decided to take a seat next to the Major and rest when he could. He didn't need it, since he ran much farther than this for training on a daily basis, but they weren't used to running twenty miles on average a day like he was.

"Listen-" She broke the silence between them as they sat. "I'm not really in the mood for talking or being around anyone right now. It's nothing personal."

Surprised on her sudden and uncalled for choice of words, Doyle's brow perked at her attitude. "Good thing I wasn't talking then." He started to rise in an effort to give her more space, but her hand was there on his arm to stop him.

"I'm sorry." Her voice had softened, her eyes wide as she looked up at him with her hand still delicately clasping his forearm. She was silently begging him to sit back down and slowly, he did just that. Easing in next to her, he shifted his rifle to rest on the side of his leg. There was a lot of tension between them that Doyle didn't recognize. They were still very much strangers. Hell, he still didn't even have a name to call her by, since she never gave hers in return.

He said nothing, not even to dare ask for her name. He didn't even look at her, especially since her gaze had once again wandered off towards the direction of the kids.

It was difficult for him to sit so close to the woman he had been admiring for so long from a distance. What was worse was that he was having a hard time absorbing the thought of being so close, with everything that was going on. For all he knew, a horde of the infected could come running up behind them at any moment. It pretty much killed whatever moment he could cherish in spending with her.

The line broke on his ear monitor, a connection to the Army that he had forgotten to leave behind. "Doyle?! You there, man? Doyle!"

It was his good friend Flynn from the chopper unit. "Ah shit, Flynn!" He called back over it, hoping he had called him on a private line.

"Doyle, where you at? I'm comin' to pick you up!"

Doyle eyed the Major, noticing they were now both on their feet since he had jumped up at the surprise of being paged.

"I'm over the hill past the District at the abandoned carnival! Over."

There was static on the line as the sound of a helicopter drew closer, Flynn's chopper hovered over them. The wind created from the large machine made them all wince, blowing the grass around them and exposing their location. His friend was yelling into the monitor just loud enough so Doyle could hear. "You got a group of infected coming at you from five miles East near the District. Get your ass to the clearing about a mile West. Lose those people! I'm not takin' them!" With that, the chopper flew off.

"Come on!" Doyle yelled to his company, running them all towards the direction Flynn planned to pick him up. He'd be damned if he was leaving any of them behind and Flynn was about to find that out the hard way.

They ran towards the landed chopper and Flynn's voice sounded in the heart-throbbing ears of Sergeant Doyle. "I told you I'm not takin' them, man!"

Doyle paged back, trying to keep his breath steady. "These kids need to be taken to the medical unit, Flynn! They hold a key to a vaccine!"

"I don't care, Doyle! You have any idea what Colonel Ryans will do to me if I bring them back?! Besides, I can't hold the weight of all of you!"

At this point in the argument, Doyle had made it to the chopper and was now holding Flynn's ACU jacket by the collar and screaming over the propeller blades. "You wanna save your wife and kids from the horrors of what's on our heels?!" Seeing the wavering in Flynn's eyes and the emotion that surfaced at the reference to his family, Doyle shook him harder by the collar. "Take the kids! We'll stay behind till you can come back for us!"

Not waiting for Flynn's response, Doyle loaded the brother and sister into the back of the helicopter. Tears had streamed down and stained their ashen cheeks, but Doyle still offered that reassuring smile he held so well as he comforted, "We will see you there!"

Doyle and the Major took several steps back from the chopper so it could fly off and as the loud spinning blades dimmed into the background, a new sound came from behind them. The soldiers turned to find a group of the infected running full speed up the hill, towards the exposed pair. Before they could exchange a plan or horrified look, the two were once again running in hopes of being faster than the things that craved to destroy them.

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	4. Bone of my Bones

The sounds of the undead were enough to make the bravest of men cringe in fear. Doyle's heart raced from the blood gurgling sounds that the ravenous infected made behind the pair of militia as they ran, far enough ahead of them to keep the panic in check, but close enough to know one faltering move could be the end. Light on his feet and rifle clenched tightly in his highly trained hands, he made sure to stay only one step behind his new-found survival partner. Lucky for Doyle, she was also fast and showed little signs of slowing. It wasn't until the pair came to a gate to a private community that the fear of death had come completely into their sights.

Doyle stopped and turned on one heel, readying his rifle and shooting at will at the line of infected coming their way. They dropped under the aim of his sharp eye, while the Major frantically searched for a way to open the gate. The numbers of the horde were overwhelming and Doyle soon found his fast bullets and accuracy did little to fight against the masses and their oncoming speed. Pulling back, Doyle ran towards the Major who had now found her way over the gate. "Come on!" She yelled as her boots hit the ground on the other side.

With little effort, the Sergeant was up on the gate, using the strength in his strongly muscled arms to lift him up. The infected were at the gate as he reached the top, shaking it with the terrifying force that they held. The soldier wavered while at the top, requiring more of his strength to steady against the shaking. The Major had backed up to avoid being so close to the infected and Doyle looked at her as he tried to gather his balance.

"Don't just fucking stand there, go!" He yelled at her, seeing the internal argument in her eyes over staying or leaving. When she didn't move, Doyle lowered himself quickly and low enough to jump onto the ground so not to hurt himself. He faltered as he made contact with the hard surface, since he jumped from such an impressive height. His imbalance caused a fatal hesitation, leaving a fallen infected male enough time to grab at Doyle's ankle. The strength of the infected was enough to bring the Sergeant to fall while it pulled him towards the horde at the gate. A bullet from the Major's hand gun had released it's bloodied grip from his ankle, which gave Doyle the only chance he had to get away from their reaching hands.

Quickly, Doyle found his feet and hooked his hand around the Major's upper arm in an attempt to lead her forward. "We can't keep moving like this." Doyle pointed out the obvious, now finding himself out of breath from the close call.

"We don't know if this area is secure, Sergeant." The Major argued, but not as sternly as he would have imagined her to. She clearly agreed by the tone in her voice that they could not keep on running and be so exposed.

"If we get a vehicle, we can find the a military base." Doyle offered.

The Major's round eyes looked in his direction as they continued to walk briskly forward. "You and I both know that we won't be welcomed there. They will shoot us on sight. The orders are against us. We are considered a threat, as part of the infected."

Doyle knew she was right, but the optimist in him hoped that someone would see some sense in this chaos. Flynn had offered them safe passage, but Doyle knew he would be in more trouble than he hoped for. If they decided not to execute them, Doyle would be in trouble for completely disregarding orders in more ways than one. He knew that the children would be safe, since they held the possible key for a cure. The Major too, since she was the small chance they had in figuring out the cure or a vaccine.

They continued in this silence, trying to find the right strategy in the new world where there was no right strategy. Doyle stopped before an abandoned silver station wagon. It wasn't the most desirable of post-apocalyptic vehicles, but it was something. "Here." He said, tapping on the roof of the vehicle. "Let me check the gas in this thing." Doyle put his rifle in the backseat as he took a seat into the driver's side.

The Major had stopped, bringing her fair hand to her forehead to wipe the sweat from her brow. He could tell that she wasn't thrilled with this idea, but she clearly had no other plan to throw into the mix. "So where do we go from here?" She asked.

To the Sergeant's relief, the keys were in the cab and the gas tank read close to full on it. "Yes!" Now listening to what the Major had asked, Doyle turned his face towards her. She still stood outside the car, looking in towards him. " The farther away, the better. Get in."

The Major nodded slowly in response. "Alright."

She got in and after Doyle had pumped the clutch a few times, the old car started up. "Some fucking luck at last." Doyle said to himself, as he pulled out of the residential area and back onto the streets of London.

In the silence that existed between them, Doyle struggled to find a strategy other than running. It was a lot of responsibility in keeping her in tow, for every decision he made would effect another life. Doyle did little to control his speed as he turned the sharp corners of London's city blocks. They made it pretty far in this quiet, till Doyle asked the question he had been dying to know the answer to since he had laid eyes on her all those weeks ago. "Should I call you Major, or do you actually have another name to call you by?"

He eyed her, seeing the change in her thought at his question. She now looked puzzled and Doyle's muscles clenched in defense as he realized he had taken a wrong step. "How did you know I was a Major?"

Doyle had known her rank from when he asked his comrades about her. It was when he had given away his infatuation with her to his friends and when a fellow soldier had given what little information he had on her. She was wearing no identifying jacket that gave her name or rank and Doyle had no way to cover his tracks. "I guessed."

"That was a pretty accurate guess." She accused, her attentions completely on him.

His eyes scanned the road ahead of him, knowing he couldn't tell her the full truth. "I've seen you before. One of the men in my unit had a crush on you." Doyle cleared his throat uncomfortably. "He asked some questions that someone was able to give."

Her eyes narrowed on his profile, annoyance over his blatant lie were like daggers shooting from her eyes. "Whatever." She huffed, giving up on prying information from the stranger and turning her attentions back towards her window. "It's Major Scarlet Levy. Medial unit."

His tension eased when she dropped the subject. "That would explain the lack of jacket." He said under his breath in a teasing manner. "Can I call you Scarlet or is that gonna be a problem?"

"It's fine." She said shortly, pressing her fingers to her temple as if to comfort some oncoming headache.

He quieted, feeling he was getting on her nerves as he did at the abandoned carnival. Turning the car down another street and at the outskirts of the city, the two went back into a mode of fear at the wall of poisonous gas up ahead released from the Army.

"Oh shit!" Doyle yelled out, slamming on the breaks to prevent driving into the blinding and deadly cloud. "Shut the vents!"

Scarlet quickly did as Doyle said, struggling against the abrupt turning of the vehicle in the process.

"Fuck!" Doyle yelled out as the car stalled after being whipped around too hard.

The cloud approached them and Doyle's priorities had now changed, now helping Scarlet cover the vents rather than trying to restart the car. His green eyes lifted from the vent level and went wide at the sight of several of the infected rushing them.

"Doyle!" Scarlet voiced his name in fear, her eyes set on the infected that were now slamming mercilessly into the car. "They're gonna break the glass!"

Soon the deadly cloud overtook the vehicle while Doyle tried repeatedly to start it up. "Come on!" He hit the steering wheel with his gloved hand, before covering his mouth and nose with one of his undershirts. Scarlet, also covered her face, keeping her eyes closed as she predicted the infected female on her side would soon achieve in breaking her window. Infected blood painted the panes and spilled from their mouths, rage in their faces with their obsession in destroying them.

Eying his rear view mirror, Doyle couldn't believe what was now approaching them with the cloud. The fire unit in the Army was now behind them, deadly torch guns in hand and protective gas masks covering their faces. As the infected slowly fell to the ground from the deadly fumes, Doyle knew the greater danger was now in the living that would destroy them just as quickly as the infected.

"We got company." He announced to Scarlet, then went back to trying to pump the clutch and start the car.

"Oh, God." Upset with their grim future, Scarlet's pleading eyes stayed on Doyle as he struggled with the temperamental vehicle.

In his always calculating mind, Doyle went over different escape plans in his head. They couldn't hide in the car, the infected bodies outside would give away their location. The soldiers would burn their bodies and be suspect to what they were trying to attack. The two living would be seen. He contemplated running, but the risk was too great with the gas and trying to outrun the soldiers in their now tired state. His greatest plan, lay within starting this damn car.

The engine turned and turned against his pleading force and with another pop of the clutch, the car purred to life.

Scarlet's relief could be felt even before she exclaimed, "Yes!"

Before the soldiers could make it to them, Doyle hit the gas and they were once again off down the forsaken streets. "The arial unit will be after us now. They will radio them."

As if on cue, an armed chopper peeked out from the other side of the city and was now catching up behind them in the distance.

"You just had to say that, didn't you?"

Doyle eyed the brunette at her comment, not really appreciating it.

The black chopper fired, hitting the back of their car and doing serious damage to the back half. Instinctively, they ducked and Doyle took action by abruptly turning down another road and then down into the underground subway. The car's pieces flew off as they hit each step with great force, a tire flew off and the car was basically totaled by the time they hit the bottom. The two struggled in the car against it's force, till it settled among it's own smoke.

"Crash dummy approved." Doyle inappropriately joked, evoking a dirty look from the frazzled and pained Scarlet.

He exited the station wagon in a hurry, Scarlet behind him and wincing against the aches from Doyle's off-road experience.

"You okay?" He asked with concern, completely unaware of the slight blood dripping from his own forehead that Scarlet presumed was from him hitting his head against the steering wheel.

"I'm good. We need to find a way out of here."

Her shortness was noted by Doyle and as it grew darker with each step, Doyle felt this was not the safest route to go. Soon, they couldn't see and Doyle's only vision existed in the scope through the night vision in his rifle. They soon approached the stairs to go down into the train area. They could walk the track till the next station, but Doyle felt it could be a death trap. Outside of the rats which carried many diseases, even the rage virus, if there were actual infected persons down there they would both be trapped. Yes, it would be perfect cover from the soldiers and even an easy way to avoid the infected, but there was no way to be sure.

Lining his night scope down the stairs, the long-dead bodies were piled at disturbing numbers all the way down and scattered across the bottom. Feeling Scarlet's hands on his arm, he also knew going into this practically blind was an even worse idea.

"No." Doyle stopped, causing his follower to stop as well.

"What wrong?"

"This is way too dangerous. I'd rather take my chances up on the streets. Who knows what the fuck is down there? Or what's going to follow us down there?"

He could hear her take three short breaths in the deafening silence and then another set of breaths that didn't belong to either of them. It was coming from where they came and it was a lot louder than what a healthy person would produce. It was the breathing and blood-gurgling of the infected. It would follow the sounds they made, even their own breathing and the enticing scent they produced just by being alive. Her hand squeezed his arm in silent communication and without another word or movement exchanged between them, the two silently moved forward towards the staircase and took a delicate step down the first step.

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	5. Night

The first step proved to be almost fatal when Doyle overcompensated a movement. His scope could only see so much in the dark and not having his peripheral vision was beginning to mess with his mind. He was seeing things, moving bodies among the rotting corpses. Upon always giving them a second and even third look, he knew they were officially dead. He froze with Scarlet still clinging to his tensed arms. Slowly, he scanned to look behind them for any movement. For a moment, he wondered if he had imagined it, but he knew Scarlet had heard that foreign breathing too by the slight squeeze she gave to his bicep.

"Get down!" He whispered to her and she was careful to oblige.

There was no way they were making it down these stairs. Doyle had only one choice; to take out the target following them. He only hoped there was only a few, since they could easily become overwhelmed by a mass horde. Scarlet was bent and kept one hand firmly holding onto his thigh to hold her balance as she crouched down on the stairs. He was the only eyes she had and even in this blackness, Doyle could feel her fear escalating by the minute. He wanted to tell her it would be alright, but he couldn't make a promise like that. Especially not now, when Doyle even feared a gruesome end was near.

His scope continued to scan the path behind them and Doyle instinctively crouched down in the process to prevent any unseen attack. The solid railings from the rows of stairs protected the lower halves of their bodies and bending down gave them both a sense of safety, as minuscule as it was. A movement caught his attentions and he focused in the direction of it, hoping to catch a glimpse of it once more to take a shot. The sounds of the breathing and the growling grew louder, followed by pronounced footsteps clearly running in their direction.

He heard Scarlet give a breathy cry, the soundtrack of a muffled scream underneath her shaking hands. He couldn't find the infected in his scope and as he moved it back and forth, the green hazed images became more and more blurry for the trained sniper. Before he knew what was coming, Doyle felt the impact of a body against him and the splatter of blood on his arms. Scarlet's hand was a lost sensation as he continued to fall and he hoped she wasn't falling with them.

His rifle, dropped somewhere on the steps and as his footing was still yet to be found, Doyle was rolling down over the dead bodies while an infected was trying it's hardest to destroy him. In the darkness the wrestling pair fell more and more down the stairs, Doyle's hurting body hitting each step and with pronounced force against the infected's unrelenting attacks. The soldier held the infected person by the neck, or what he assumed was the neck, in an attempt to keep it's deadly bite away from his own flesh.

The virus made this person stronger than what it would normally be while alive, the rage giving it unfathomable strength that fairly challenged the fit soldier.

"Scarlet!" Doyle called out to her through the darkness and over the raging cries of the the attacker. He squeezed harder against it's throat and pushed it away, farther away from his face which it was now dangerously close to. "Scarlet!" He called out once more as he struggled to fight off the thing's beating fist with his one free arm. In one motion, Doyle lifted it and managed to stand, but soon fell once more as he tripped over one of the dozens of dead bodies beneath them. Attempting to choke him, Doyle straddled the movements underneath him to control the thrashing and applied great force to it's windpipe. After several excruciatingly long seconds, the infected failed to succumb to the pressure. "Fuck!" Doyle yelled in frustration, slamming the thing's head against the floor to try and smash it's skull. The strength of it could not be so easily controlled and soon, Doyle found the tables turning on him as it's fist found his right temple. Knocking him off and onto the crunching bones of the dead, Doyle had lost all sense of direction of his attacker.

A gunshot rang and all went silent.

"You alright?" Was all Doyle heard as the sound of the gunshot faded, the sight belonging to the familiar voice still invisible.

"I think so." He felt her hands on his forearm and she assisted him in rising to his loose feet. "I guess we're taking the tunnels."

His rifle was back in his hands, a feeling that had never been better. Bringing the scope to his eye line, he looked through it for a glimpse of his fallen opponent. It was the father of Tammy and Andy, the two kids that they had sent on the helicopter. He recognized them from their window, a sight he had taken in every night since their arrival. "Do we tell them if we see them again?"

He couldn't see her, but once more she found a home in clasping her hand around his upper arm. "No."

Breathing out, Doyle stepped over him, bringing Scarlet from the connection she had made. Once they were over the threshold of the dead, Doyle decided to announce it so she didn't have to feel around with her foot so much anymore. "We're clear. It's flat till the tunnel."

Her hand still rested on his arm, more relaxed than before, but he could feel the occasional tremor of fear course through her. He wished he could see her face, look into her eyes and try and get a read that she was mentally together. All he could do was look through the scope and try and find a way out of here and that is where his sole attention needed to be. As they turned the corner, light was now present from overhead windows. She released her tight grip on him once she was able to see and took a step away from him. Doyle used his own eyes now, lowering his gun and trying to read her without staring. She looked tired, scared, but still held the composure of bravery. She was the type to persevere at all costs, someone much like himself.

Her eyes met his when they lingered too long on her profile. "What?"

"Nothing, just checkin' to make sure you're not bit." He lied.

Her left brow raised. "I'm not the one who was tackled by the infected and thrown down a flight of stairs."

"Thanks to you, I'm not bit. Second time you saved my ass today."

"Well stop getting yourself into these situations and I won't have to do it again."

He smirked. "What's the fun in that?"

She rolled her eyes, then much to Doyle's surprise, she also began to smile.

"What?" He asked her, his smile widening the more he watched her.

Her eyes stayed forward. "You didn't strike me as the damsel in distress type. Guess we're prime examples of why you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover."

"And you think I've judged you in some way?" His brow furrowed, his smile fading as he hung on her every word.

"You said it earlier, 'figures someone in the medical unit wouldn't be wearing their ACU jacket'. Typical infantry judgement on other units. You all think you're better than the rest."

All humor gone, Doyle's eyes narrowed on her while they continued to walk towards the train tunnel. "That's a bit hypocritical, don't ya think? Accuse me of stereotyping, then doin' it yourself on my unit?"

She rolled her eyes again, also sobering from their joking. Obviously, there was something behind all this for her. Something had happened to her with someone from the infantry, or maybe she was brainwashed just as he was about everything that was different from himself.

Ahead, the broken down subway marked their next destination and they traveled to it now in silence. Doyle still wasn't comfortable with this plan, but he clearly had no choice anymore. This was their path and they were trapped. He just wanted to get out of here as soon as possible and unfortunately, the train tunnel was their only way out. They would walk with the rats and hopefully nothing else to the next station. It would be at least five miles of tunnel, lit only by the occasional breaks in light from windows overhead.

The distance between them had grown greater, both fairly pissed off at each other from their argument. Doyle didn't understand why she was being so cold. He hadn't done anything to her, had he?

Their boots echoed off of the tight brick walls and the two put more and more track behind them without a word spoken. A louder noise caused them both to turn suddenly, with the next entrance in the far distance. The frantic patter of feet became almost deafening as the rats ran in their direction.

"They're running from the infected!" Scarlet yelled to Doyle, who instantly tightened both of his hands on his weapon. He held it close to his chest, turned and ran alongside Scarlet. The screams could be heard a good mile behind them and Doyle dreaded every second that was to come. Soon, they were off the track and up into the light and the world outside.

"This way!" Doyle heard her yell as she veered off towards a line of abandoned cars, pulling at the door handles to find them all locked.

Doyle was right behind her, trying the cars but knowing they couldn't linger hear as the sounds grew louder from the tunnel behind them. "We can't stay here, we gotta move!" He took her arm and pulled her forward to run, but came up short against a fortified military vehicle that hummed almost as loudly as the infected.

Stepping back, the two stared up at the six faces watching them. They were rogue members of the British Army, a branch of militia neither of them were too familiar with.

The horde soon made it's way to the clearing and they were running ravenously towards them. Doyle's heart slammed against the confines of his chest, his breath nowhere to be found.

"Get in!" The highest ranking officer yelled to them as the large vehicle started to turn around.

Doyle and Scarlet were gripping the makeshift wooden back of the large automobile in no time, both climbing over the fortified protections and falling onto the flatbed from their eagerness. They both tried to catch their breath and Scarlet clung onto Doyle now as if he was her closest friend. The infected crashed upon the boarded up truck, reaching in with their rotting hands in an attempt to grab either of them.

Machine gun rounds emitted and the infected fell from the truck as it sped off, the young members of the militia kicking the dead ones off that got caught in the openings of the boards.

Scarlet's shaking digits slowly released from Doyle's ACU jacket, but she still stayed so close to his chest. Right now, Doyle couldn't even dwell on the fact she had sought protection in him, since his nerves were at a breaking point and he silently wondered how much of this he could possibly take. After catching his breath, Doyle looked up to thank one of the Privates, but instead was met with a hard knock from the back of his heavy rifle.

A scream from Scarlet was heard and the rushing of the soldier's upon her, then nothing as Doyle slipped out of consciousness.

All faded to black.

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